


Teach Me What You Know

by LouLa



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouLa/pseuds/LouLa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willing or not, Jamie is Tyler's new tutor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me What You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to check out the rest of the works for Extracurriculars hockey rpf high school au fest in the tag!!!

Jamie walks right past him on his way to the fridge without even noticing. Jamie's standing with the door wide open, chugging milk straight from the carton when he hears someone behind him clear their throat. He thinks it's his mother, and he almost spits milk everywhere, because he knows he's going to get yelled at for standing there with the fridge open and drinking out of the carton ― again.

But he doesn't, because it's not his mom. He doesn't know who the kid is or what he's doing sitting at their dinner table.

“Uh, can I help you?” Jamie asks, confused, using the back of his wrist to wipe away the milk he can feel clinging to his upper lip.

The kid smirks, for no reason that Jamie can see, and proceeds to kick back in one of their chairs, leaning it back on two legs the same way that Jamie does ― and always gets in trouble for. “That depends,” the kid says, “are you Jamie?”

“Yeah?” Jamie replies, his voice pitching upwards in question.

“Then yes, you can definitely help me,” he says. He drops the chair down onto all four legs and grins across the kitchen at Jamie in a way that makes Jamie sweat.

“Okay.” Jamie draws out the word, still more than just a little confused about what is going on. Isn't his mom home? She should be home. She has to be for this kid to have been let in, unless he broke in ― but he doesn't really look the type, all big dumbo ears and lips that stretch into a cocky grin too easily. “Who are you and why are you in my house?”

There he goes, again, smiling at Jamie's question though it's pretty straight forward and nothing to smile at. “Tyler Seguin. And you're my new tutor.”

“Uh,” Jamie answers. He has nothing else to say.

No one told him about this, or even asked him. He's never seen this Tyler kid in his life, but Jamie is suddenly expected to be his tutor? Not fucking likely.

It's Jamie's senior year, and the only thing he's worried about is graduating and getting into a good university and out of this town. His grades are good, and he's done his due time for the community to pump up his resume, no way does he want to start tutoring. He never offered this.

“Oh good, you boys met,” Jamie's mom says when she finally shows up to explain what is going on. “Jamie, this is Tyler; Tyler, this is Jamie,” she introduces, pointlessly considering they had already gotten to that part.

“Yeah, we got that much. Care to explain why he says I'm going to be tutoring him,” Jamie asks. He keeps his voice low in hope that Tyler won't be able to hear him across the room.

His mom smiles calmly back at Tyler and drags Jamie further away. “He's having a hard time, Jamie. The Seguins just moved into town a few months ago and things aren't going well for him at school. His mother and I are in the same yoga class. This will be good for him, and you too. Jackie offered to pay you, honey.”

And Jamie feels helpless, because she's doing that thing, where she puts her hand on his shoulder and looks up at him with desperation that makes him feel needlessly guilty. He... he can't say no.

Jamie sighs and his mom squeezes his shoulder, already knowing his answer. There's not much point in saying it, but he does anyway, nodding. “Yeah, fine. Okay. But I'm taking the money.”

She slaps his cheek lightly, but he can tell by the look on her face that it's more fond than scolding. “Jackie will insist anyway. I have to go now, but you go ahead and get started with him. And Jamie, please, try to be nice. He's a good boy, just...”

She doesn't finish her thought before gathering up her purse and saying goodbye to Tyler.

Jamie steels himself, resigned to his fate. Tyler is still at the table, though one of his books is open now and he's casually thumbing through it, the end of his pen stuck in his mouth. Jamie can see the pink of his tongue as he slides it thoughtlessly over his teeth, and Jamie shakes his head, looking away as he makes his way over to the table.

“All right,” he says, all business. “Where would you like to start?”

Tyler looks up at him, pen still pushed between his lips. When he finally pulls it out, he drags his tongue over the plush bottom one, carefully wetting it. “So many options,” he says.

Jamie swallows, looks at Tyler's books to force himself to focus. “Well, just pick one. Wherever you'd like to start is fine with me, I'm good at everything.”

“I'll bet you are,” Tyler says, and Jamie looks at him again, unsure whether he's being mocked or what. He can't tell even when he is looking at Tyler, mostly because his eyes are drawn down to Tyler's mouth, where he's again sucking on his pen. “I could blow you.”

It takes a second for the words to register, and then a second longer for Jamie to drag his eyes away from Tyler's mouth and think about whether he really heard that or if his mind is playing dirty pool. “What?” Jamie chokes, voice strangled.

“I said I could blow you,” Tyler says, and Jamie sputters, wordless. He shakes his head, trying to clear it.

“I'm sorry?” Jamie questions one more time.

Tyler grins, shameless and flirty and confident. “I saw you looking at my mouth.”

“That's,” Jamie begins, but he doesn't know how to finish. Beside the point? Inappropriate? Completely and regardlessly true? All of the above.

“You can't deny it. We both know it's true.”

“Why don't you just,” _shut up_ , Jamie wants to beg, but he restrains himself to ask, “figure out which homework assignment is due first and we'll start there.”

“Do I look like someone who does his own homework?” Tyler retorts.

“I'm supposed to be tutoring you,” Jamie says, at a loss.

“And I'm offering to blow you, man, are you really saying no?”

Jamie bets that Tyler is someone that people don't say no to very often. And probably never when he offers them sexual favors. But Jamie is being thrown for a loop here, and he can't imagine himself taking Tyler up on the proposition. He can't imagine himself being sucked off by a guy he only just met.

Or he can imagine it, can picture Tyler on his knees, his stupid ears sticking out and the plush of his mouth spread wide around Jamie's dick, the thick of his dark hair in Jamie's hand, the sweet sounds he'd make when he went to work. The imagery is nice, not something Jamie wants to turn down when it's being pushed at him so willingly. But it still feels wrong.

“I'm saying no.” It takes real effort on Jamie's part, but he does manage to say it somewhat believably.

“Huh,” is all Tyler has in reply to that. He looks disappointed, maybe annoyed, but not at all hurt by Jamie's rejection, and that is some comfort at least to Jamie.

“Okay, can we get this over with now?” Jamie asks.

“Whatever,” Tyler replies with about as much enthusiasm as Jamie feels.

―

They work for about an hour. More specifically, Jamie works for about an hour, and Tyler hums boredly whenever Jamie asks him if he's paying attention, writing only when prompted. Jamie doubts wholeheartedly that Tyler is learning anything or even catching more than a few words that Jamie is saying.

It's a wasted effort, a waste of time. Jamie regrets turning down the blowjob already, and agreeing to this entire setup even more so. He deserves the head and whatever money he has coming his way for the sheer force of will it takes to keep himself thinking about grade 10 history and science rather than the soft heat that Tyler's mouth no doubt is.

Essentially, Jamie finishes the most imminent homework assignments Tyler has at hand in that hour. He feels a bit duped afterward, conned into doing all of Tyler's work for him when he was meant to be giving him the tools to do the work himself. It's perplexing and frustrating, because he can't tell if Tyler purposely tricked him into it by distracting him and throwing him off balance with his bluntness or if Jamie is really that bad at tutoring.

Next time will be better. Jamie won't be surprised next time, now that he knows his responsibility and how Tyler behaves.

“I guess we'll call that good for now,” Jamie says, closing Tyler's notebook and shuffling everything into a pile.

“Thank god,” Tyler groans, like he even did anything at all. He stands up and stretches, and with Jamie still sitting down, he's front and center for a closeup view of the trail of hair below Tyler's navel that sneaks beneath the waistband of his low-slung jeans.

Tyler catches him off guard for the sixtieth time in as many minutes when he leans down into Jamie's space and presses their lips together, no warning except his hand on the back of Jamie's neck when it's already too late, caught and caged in. Jamie goes with it, the soft, sweet pressure on his mouth that's too good for Tyler to be new at it. It takes far too long for Jamie to catch himself.

He pushes Tyler away with a hand flat to his chest, trying to muster up a glare but knowing he's probably failing miserably. He's stunned.

Tyler just rubs his lips together, hums consideringly, and gathers his things up, throwing a casual, “See you tomorrow,” over his shoulder as he shows himself out.

_Shit_ , Jamie thinks.

―

Tyler is already there again when Jamie gets home the next day, presumably let in by his mother. She rambles into the kitchen just a few seconds after Jamie and smiles at them both.

“Oh good, you're home. Why don't you boys go up to your room? It's quieter up there.”

Jamie sighs inwardly because Tyler's grin turns sharp as soon as Jamie's room is mentioned, predatory. He wants to say no, fairly certain it's not going to end well for him, but he nods anyway. Smiling at his mother, he grabs the stack of books on the table in front of Tyler and leads him toward the stairs.

Behind him, he knows Tyler's is watching him as they go upstairs, can feel himself flushing because of it. His ass is eye level to Tyler, and even when he speeds up to get it over with faster, Tyler just makes an appreciative sound and continues to follow after him.

In his bedroom, he spreads Tyler's books out over his desk and tries to figure out the best course of action for them to take. By the time he turns around, Tyler is already on his bed, stretched out along the green comforter.

Jamie groans, rolling his eyes. “Can you just... not?” he asks, frustrated. Tyler's complete lack of propriety is so far beyond distracting, Jamie doesn't know how to handle it.

“Not what?” Tyler asks innocently. Even if Jamie had believed that in the first place, the way Tyler sprawls out further, exposing the flat of his stomach where his shirt rides up, ruins his effect pretty wholly. 

“You know what,” Jamie grumbles, turning back to the books. He guesses the best bet might just be to start on what they didn't touch at all the day before.

“I really don't, please tell me,” Tyler says, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

He looks so fucking smug, spread out over Jamie's bed. He looks good in Jamie's bed. It's distracting.

“Okay,” Jamie says avoidantly, clearing his throat. “Let's work on your English assignment. I think I remember doing this, and it takes a while.”

Tyler all-out groans at that, and when Jamie glances back, it's to find Tyler staring at him thoughtfully. “Are you seeing someone?” Tyler asks.

“Can we focus, please?” Jamie replies.

But Tyler isn't deterred. He's relentless. “Girl? Boy? Both?”

“If I answer, can we get started?” A truce of sorts, a middle ground. If he offers Tyler something he wants to know, maybe they can just get this over with already, and Jamie won't have to deal with him again until tomorrow. It seems fair to him.

Or maybe not _fair_ , because in Jamie's opinion, nothing about this is fair. If he's really expected to be tutoring this kid, Tyler's gonna need to stop all this shit that he's doing and just let Jamie do what he's supposed to do. It's fucking impossible to focus with six feet of willing body all over his bed, and to be expected to do the right thing and say no to it.

“Yeah,” Tyler answers, and Jamie sighs, thankful.

“No,” is Jamie's answer, then; he's not seeing anyone.

“But you are a little gay? Or a lot?” Tyler pushes further. Jamie rolls his eyes, though he's unsurprised that Tyler isn't giving up.

Neither is Jamie. He pulls out the assignment and asks Tyler if he understands what he needs to do. Of course he hasn't even started it yet, and it's due the next week. Jamie has his work cut out for him, clearly.

“I'll answer your question if you answer mine.”

Jamie rubs at his forehead, frustrated. “That wasn't the deal.”

“Come on,” Tyler pesters, “just this one and then we'll do what you want.”

“Yes,” Jamie says unceremoniously.

Across the room, Tyler's brows furrow. “A little or a lot?” he questions, and Jamie stares at him blankly, unyielding. Tyler grins, tucking one of his elbows under his head as he rolls onto his side to face Jamie. “No, I have no idea what I need to do, come teach me,” he says, patting the bed.

“I'm fine here, thank you.” And then Jamie launches into an explanation of the assignment, before Tyler can ask any more of his irrelevant questions. He's keeping it firmly in his mind that what he needs to do is give Tyler the tools to finish his assignment and not actually do any of the work for him.

“Don't you think you're taking this whole tutor thing a little too seriously?” Tyler asks.

Jamie fires back, “Don't you think you're not taking it seriously enough?”

Tyler huffs, annoyed, and rolls off of Jamie's bed and to his feet, shirt finally falling back into place and covering the smooth-skinned expanse of his stomach. Jamie tenses up as Tyler crosses the room, prepared for whatever the little shit is going to try now. “Jamie, I assure you, I am taking this very seriously. I only want what's best, and I think that's you. My grades will be much better off if you're the one doing the work, and in return, you can do whatever you want to me.”

When he finishes, he's standing right in front of Jamie, and once again, Jamie's eyes are level with Tyler's stomach, and it's difficult not to look down. It's difficult to breathe, difficult to think, difficult to act like Tyler's not affecting him.

“That might have worked with your other tutors, but I'm not buying what you're selling,” Jamie forces himself to say, gripping the arms of his desk chair for strength.

“Oh,” Tyler says, not backing off in the slightest. If nothing else, he tips his hips forward more, closer to Jamie's face. “Okay.”

It's not like Jamie actually expects him to drop it. But regardless, it's still a shock for Jamie when Tyler's mouth is just inches from his as he leans in close, breath whispering over Jamie's lips when he speaks. “If you really don't want me.”

Tyler's hands are on his thighs, pushing into the muscle with force as he moves them upward. A groan works its way out of Jamie. Knowing he has to stop this before it goes any further might be the hardest thing he ever has to do. If he's being honest, here, he really doesn't want to.

Jamie's just worked himself up to it, got himself prepared to push Tyler away when Tyler unexpectedly backs off on his own. “Your loss, I guess,” he says, nonchalant as he digs his fingers into Jamie's upper thighs and kisses him just like he did yesterday, square on the mouth and without any preamble. It's quick and dirty, Tyler biting down on Jamie's lower lip before he lets him go completely. The kiss leaves Jamie leaning forward in his seat, trying to follow it.

Tyler gathers up his things and leaves with a simple, “Bye.” Jamie doesn't have the presence of mind to stop him ― they didn't get any work done, he should really stop him. He barely has the presence of mind to get up to lock the door before he's got his cock out, his jeans and underwear pushed out of the way just enough to jerk himself off without the hindrance. When he comes, it's helplessly with Tyler's name stuck behind his clenched teeth.

―

Tyler's not there the next day when Jamie gets home. He snorts when his mom says she hasn't seen him, so he must not be there yet. Jamie thinks Tyler's probably given up on him as a tutor already, not liking the fact that Jamie refused to do his work for him in exchange for ― no doubt mind-blowing ― sex.

He rolls his eyes at himself when he feels a twinge of disappointment. Tyler finding a different tutor and not torturing Jamie anymore is a relief. Really, Jamie should be absolutely thrilled not to have to deal with the stubborn little prick anymore.

Instead he feels a bit longing and regretful. He wishes he'd have gotten his dick in Tyler's mouth, just once. What kind of idiot turns down a blowjob, fuck.

Jamie decides to go for a run, annoyed with himself. He's being ridiculous. Going for a run is a great way for him to get his mind off things and burn off some energy, and a much better, not to mention healthier, way to relieve some stress than jerking off over Tyler again. He'll sweat Tyler out of his system. It seems like a good plan.

It's well on its way to working when he gets home thirty-five minutes later. He's hot and sticky and his mind is not stuck on a boy who wanted to use him for his brain. He's over it already. Mission accomplished.

He's got his shirt peeled off, ready to kick off the rest of his clothes on his way to the shower. When he steps into his bedroom, Tyler is there, on his bed like that's where he's meant to be.

A whoosh of breath goes out of Jamie, a bit like, _well, there goes that waste of effort_. Because there's Tyler.

“Damn,” Jamie hears Tyler mutter to himself before he stands and crosses the room. Jamie looks down at himself and cringes a little. He's not in bad shape or anything; he tries to keep himself toned and trim, but his natural body shape always leaves a bit to be desired. It doesn't really help that he's literally dripping in sweat.

“Can we skip the part where you pretend you're not interested and get on with letting me touch you all over?” Tyler asks.

And Jamie... he's not going to say no. At this point, he really doesn't see a reason to. Fuck, if Tyler wants him, Jamie is definitely, _definitely_ into it. It's a last ditch effort, one last out, and altogether true when he says, “I need to shower.” It's stilted and halting, unconvincing even in its obviousness.

“No, I like it,” Tyler says.

Well. That's... Something. Jamie isn't sure what to do with it except file it away and brace himself when Tyler puts his hands on Jamie's sweaty chest. He trails them up to Jamie's shoulders and holds him there as he leans in to nip at Jamie's neck, press kisses along his jawline. Jamie ducks his head down, catching Tyler in a kiss, licking a trace of salt off his lips before Tyler groans and meets his tongue.

“It's good, right?” Tyler asks. His fingers drag all the way down Jamie's sweaty torso to the waistband of his basketball shorts. 

It is. It is good, and Jamie's done fucking around, stepping forward to press his body into Tyler's and taking another step to get them closer to the bed. Tyler gets them turned around, hands firm on Jamie's hips, so that when they fall, it's with Jamie's back to the bed, Tyler on top of him.

With his knees on either side of Jamie's waist, Tyler sits up, straddling him and grinding his hips down in a maddeningly slow circle. “What do you want?”

Jamie almost blurts, _god, anything, just do it_ , but he stops himself in time. He catches hold of Tyler's hips to stop the painful tease of Tyler rubbing his ass against Jamie's crotch.

There are a lot of choices. Yesterday, Tyler's offer had been that Jamie could do anything he wanted to him, and Jamie has a feeling he really meant _anything_. It's a lot to think about.

He's kind of frozen there, Tyler's hips held tight in his grip, mind playing out every single thing he could be doing in quick succession.

Tyler's grin is so sharp, so cocky as he rides down against Jamie wears he's straining his shorts, hard. “You want to fuck me?” Tyler asks.

God, yeah. Yeah, Jamie definitely wants to fuck him, of course, but he's not an idiot. There's no way he's going to last that long, not with the way Tyler's got him going. He just keeps rolling his body, working against Jamie's hold on him, forcing more contact on Jamie's overeager dick.

“You want to hold me down and fuck my mouth?”

Yeah, Jamie wants that too. Mostly, he wants to fill up Tyler's mouth so he stops talking. He really wants to shut him up.

His grip tightens and he shoves Tyler off of him. Maybe he can think if Tyler's not grinding on him. But it's not as if Tyler is going to let that happen, reaching over to grab Jamie through his shorts hard enough to hurt.

“Fuck,” Jamie swears, fisting up the comforter as Tyler works his hand up the full length of him. The twist of Tyler's hand and the rough drag of the fabric against him sending shivers up Jamie's spine.

Tyler doesn't hesitate, yanking Jamie's shorts down to his knees in one quick motion, and then moving to straddle him again.

“Your thighs are huge,” Tyler says. Jamie feels his face heat even further, embarrassed. One of Tyler's hands wraps tight around Jamie's cock and the other digs into the meat of Jamie's upper thigh, barely spanning half of it. “God,” Tyler groans. “Your dick is too. I want to ride them both.”

Jamie covers his face with one of his hands, shaking his head. He doesn't... He's got no idea what to do with this kid. He just keeps talking.

Jamie finally looks down when Tyler's relinquishes his hold on Jamie's thigh to open up his jeans. He hears the zipper and glances down, watches as Tyler gets himself out. His legs are spread wide over the expanse of Jamie's thigh, half sitting on them and half holding himself up with his own much smaller ones, testing the limits of his skinny jeans.

Jamie likes the difference, like the idea that he could probably overpower Tyler pretty easily if he tried. He thinks Tyler would let him hold him down. He hopes Tyler would _like it_ if Jamie held him down. For now, Jamie is content to just think about it and let Tyler do what he wants, which is to jerk them both off with quick, tight pulls of his hand.

It's not the best handjob in the world, too dry for Jamie's liking, but it's still good. It still gets him off, not taking long either with the view he's got of Tyler working himself over right on top of Jamie.

He bites his lip and keeps his eyes open long enough to watch himself come over Tyler's fingers and his own stomach. Tyler draws it out, keeps going until Jamie has to pulls his hand away, oversensitive. Watching Tyler get his might be even better, though.

He plants his open palm on Jamie's chest and leans over him, muttering something about wanting to come on Jamie's dick. He does just that, missing at first to add to the mess on Jamie's stomach and then pumping the rest of it out onto Jamie's spent cock. He twitches, wanting, and then groans when Tyler starts to giggle as he falls over onto Jamie's bed.

Jamie shoves Tyler the rest of the way off of him and gets up, watchful of the come threatening to drip to the floor.

“I'm showering,” Jamie says. “And then you're doing your own homework.”

Tyler hums, noncommittal.

He's still on Jamie's bed when Jamie gets out of the shower, much cleaner and more clearheaded. He's trying not to feel guilty, but that's not exactly working for him. He's not sure why he's busy anguishing when all Tyler is doing is napping in his bed, carefree as ever.

“Get up,” Jamie grumps, slapping Tyler's foot as he passes the bed on his way to the desk.

“No, you come here,” Tyler says.

But Jamie knows exactly where that will lead, and he's not doing that again. “I'm serious,” Jamie mutters, pulling the English project that Tyler still hasn't started working on from the pile.

“Come give me a kiss and I promise I'll do whatever you want.”

Jamie doesn't believe him. He doesn't believe him one fucking bit, but he's an idiot and he goes to Tyler, having to crawl up onto the bed with him again when Tyler does nothing to meet him.

It's easy to get lost in it, kissing Tyler until his mouth is sore and Tyler's gasping against his lips. He doesn't want to stop, and surprisingly it's Tyler who wiggles out from under him and moves over to the desk.

“Come teach me something,” he says, bruised mouth curled into an easy grin.

―

It's too easy for them. Jamie's mom makes it too easy. She's there, talking to Tyler when Jamie gets home, and Jamie feels nervous just seeing her near him, like she's somehow going to know.

Not that he's worried she is going to have an issue with Tyler being a boy, or anything like that, but Jamie feels so much like he's doing something horribly wrong, fucking around with her friend's son. Who Jamie is supposed to be tutoring. Who is two years younger than Jamie. Who he's supposed to be setting a good example for. Or something.

She just smiles at Jamie, pats Tyler on the cheek as he smiles at her ― that fucking charming, innocent as all hell smile that is so, so misleading ― and heads up to Jamie's room. She stops Jamie before he can follow.

“How's it going with him?” she asks.

“Good,” Jamie says, short and evasive. He doesn't want to talk about Tyler. He doesn't want to feel any guiltier about that fact that he's kind of taking advantage. 

“Really?” she asks.

Jamie shrugs. “Yeah, it's going okay. He's doing fine.”

She looks surprised at that, but pleased. Proud. “Great. Jackie will be happy to hear that. You're a good boy, Jamie,” she says.

Fuck if Jamie doesn't feel about a million times more guilty right then.

“I'm headed out for a while. Call if you need anything.”

Jamie numbly says goodbye and watches her leave. She shouldn't trust him. She'd be so disappointed if she found out what he's done.

That doesn't stop him from going upstairs. It doesn't stop him from going to Tyler, every intention of letting what happened the day before happen again.

Tyler's waiting in Jamie's room, his shirt already unbuttoned, belt tossed on the floor. He's cocky as hell when Jamie steps through the door, like he knows Jamie has zero defense against him anymore. The grin on his face says it all as he flicks the button on his jeans open and undoes the fly. Jamie pushes the door closed behind him, flipping the lock, more cautious than they were before, even with the house empty this time.

It shouldn't be this easy.

Jamie crosses the room and pulls Tyler to him with his fingers curled into the front of Tyler's jeans. Tyler hits him with a breathy laugh, hands landing on Jamie's shoulders as he goes up on his toes slightly to kiss him. Jamie doesn't let it last, shoving Tyler down on his bed.

He lands with a bounce, completely at ease, not at all bothered by Jamie's roughness. It's compelling, to say the least. Jamie doesn't waste time thinking about it though, just reaches forward to yank Tyler's pants off, bringing his underwear down with them.

Tyler is left naked in his bed, having let his shirt fall off his shoulders during their kiss. He's shameless about it, planting his heels on the bed and spreading his legs. Jamie feels his teeth clench as want pools heavy, low in stomach. The things he wants to do...

He kneels on the bed, then lays down between Tyler's legs, spreading them wider to make room for his shoulders. He can hear Tyler's breath catch as he wraps his hand around Tyler's dick, already mostly hard from being kissed, being watched. 

Tyler is watching his every movement, and Jamie doesn't have the patience to wait or try to tease him and get him worked up. All he wants is to feel Tyler filling up his mouth, so that's what he gets, no reluctance. He takes him in one fell swoop, meeting his fingers with his lips and giving his wrist a quick twist, watching as Tyler's stomach goes concave as he gasps and then moans.

The hand in his hair and the waver in Tyler's voice speak volumes, though Jamie can tell he's fighting to seem unaffected. “If you wanted to suck my dick this badly, all you had to do was ask.”

Jamie doesn't pull off to point out that he didn't have to ask at all, Tyler's been flaunting himself in Jamie's face since the second they met. He figures actions speak better than words anyway, flicking his tongue along the underside of Tyler's cock and meeting the buck of his hips, taking him deeper.

It doesn't take long. It's exactly what Jamie was hoping for, to make Tyler feel as helpless and out of control as Jamie does. Tyler's face is red, his mouth wide with his panting when he pulls at Jamie's hair, tries to drag him off.

“J- Jamie,” Tyler stutters, Jamie unmoving, unrelenting. He slides the hand he's had pressed to Tyler's hip to minimize his chances of being choked down to Tyler's balls, cupping them, feeling how full they are before he moves his fingers lower, to the hot center of Tyler's body. Tyler's thighs shiver against Jamie's shoulders, tensing. He swears, pulls hard enough at Jamie's hair for it to hurt, and this time, Jamie lets himself be pulled off.

His cock is blood red and shiny with spit where it lays against his stomach, twitching. Tyler whines, and only pulls Jamie's hair harder, but Jamie stays where he is, catching his breath, letting it blow hot over Tyler's wet skin. Jamie bets it hurts, but it's his own fucking fault. He presses his dry fingers against the tightness of Tyler's hole, feels it clench, and his own cock throbs in his pants.

“Please,” Tyler begs. He tries to push Jamie's head back down on him again.

He goes part way, letting his bottom lip catch on Tyler's cock. He licks at the drop of precome drooling from the head of Tyler's cock to his abs and fights off a smile at the way Tyler trembles, fingers clinching against Jamie's scalp.

“Please what?” Jamie asks, lips moving over his cock as they form each word.

“Suck me, fuck. I'm sorry. Please, please suck me,” Tyler begs.

The noise he makes sounds like it's supposed to be a word, but it comes out garbled on a moan, Jamie taking him in as deep as he can stand. Tyler doesn't bother to warn him, though Jamie mostly knows it's coming. He pinches Tyler hard on the side, spitting into his hand, and Tyler just bats him away, still humming.

Jamie shakes his head as he washes his hands in the bathroom, rinses out his mouth. The kid has no respect, pulling on his hair and coming in his mouth.

No respect, sprawled boneless and sated across Jamie's bed, touching his dick like he hasn't had enough.

“Put your clothes on, we have work to do,” Jamie says.

Tyler looks offended when he opens his eyes, glaring at Jamie. “You just blew my brains out, you really expect me to think now? And what about you?”

“Your English assignment is due on Monday, that's all you need to worry about.”

If Jamie's doing this, he's at least going to be responsible about it.

―

Jamie gets good at it.

Not only the tutoring, but the figuring out how to deal with Tyler as well. And the lying. He gets good at the lying.

They get away with it.

It starts to feel even more dirty and wrong when Jamie meets Jackie, Tyler's mom, and she hands him a wad of cash and praises him for what a good job he's doing.

Essentially, she's paying him to fuck the daylights out of her son so he behaves himself enough to do some homework.

The guilt doesn't eat at Jamie enough to make him want to stop though. He likes Tyler, has really started to appreciate him for more than just the enthusiastic sex that's always on offer. Underneath all that charm and cockiness, he's a really sweet guy, and he's funny. It goes without saying that Jamie is beyond attracted to him on top of all that. He's way smarter than he gives himself credit for, too. If he just put his mind to it, he wouldn't need a tutor at all, but that's something that Jamie doesn't feel the need to mention, not wanting to lose what he's got. Which makes him feel additional guilt.

Of course it doesn't last forever. It couldn't, and wasn't going to.

His mom walks in on them at what is quite possibly the least opportune time. Jamie guesses that he never wanted to be caught by his mom while having sex to begin with, but there really isn't much worse she could have walked into than Jamie literally face-fucking Tyler against a wall.

It's not good.

Tyler walks out without a word, and Jamie's mother goes off on Jamie in ways she never has before. There are a lot of ' _how could you_ 's and ' _I trusted you_ 's and ' _taking advantage_ 's thrown around. Considering these are all things Jamie questioned himself, he doesn't have much in way of a defense. He apologizes a lot and she doesn't speak to him for a couple of days.

What's worse though is that he doesn't see Tyler anymore. Not at all. He doesn't call, he doesn't respond to texts, and he doesn't try sneak over to Jamie's even though he could.

Jamie takes it harder than he imagined he would. He finds himself finished with his own homework and bored out of his mind, nothing else to do. He misses him. Misses more than just the kisses and someone else touching his dick, which is really all he thought it was, when it was happening. He misses having Tyler around. Misses bickering about studying and fighting about what work Tyler needed to do. Misses Tyler sitting in his lap, trying to grind his ass on Jamie enough to distract him.

Jamie misses Tyler.

―

The days stretch out into weeks and Jamie still doesn't hear a word from Tyler. He makes the mistake of bringing it up to his mom, in a fit of desperation.

“Do you still have yoga class with Jackie?” he asks, forking rice around on his plate.

He sees the way his mother stops chewing out of the corner of his eye and forces himself to take a bite, casual.

“Yes,” she answers, simply.

He nods, let's it drop, thinking better of it. It doesn't take long for the confidence and stupidity to pile up, push the words off his tongue.

“Does she ever talk about how Tyler is doing?”

Her fork hits her plate with clatter. She's angry and Jamie doesn't even have to look up to know it. “I don't think it's any concern of yours how Tyler is doing,” she says. 

Jamie drops it, chastised. He knew asking was only going to piss her off. He doesn't think she's ever been so mad at him before, for breaking her trust.

She goes on. “I think he's seeing someone. That's what he does, Jamie. He finds nice boys like you to do things for him, so he doesn't have to. I'm sure he's just fine. Don't be a fool and think he had feelings for you. I thought you were smarter than that.”

And that fucking hurts. Jamie recoils when she lays her hand over the top of his, and she squeezes, catching hold of him. “I just want you to be happy, Jamie. Just focus on graduating and going to college. I don't want you to worry about this. Don't worry about him. You just focus on you.”

With one last squeeze, she lets go, and Jamie tries to too.

―

It doesn't work. Things don't go back to how they were before Jamie met Tyler. He doesn't stop texting Tyler either, though he never hears back.

His mom is probably right in thinking that Jamie is a fool, and that he should have been smarter than to get involved with Tyler in any way more than the tutoring sense. But Jamie can't shake it.

He thinks Tyler is better than that, better than what she said about him. If Tyler doesn't contact him, though, what choice does Jamie have but to move on?

He's out jogging one day, his usual path, his usual time, his usual distance, on his way home when he sees Tyler again.

Tyler sees him too, and he knows it, though he pretends not to before taking a completely unexpected turn, practically running through someone's lawn.

It's not subtle in the least. Jamie doesn't know why, but he decides to follow. He thinks maybe that's Tyler's plan. Lead them off to somewhere private, somewhere they can talk.

Jamie is possibly a little desperate.

Tyler keeps making more and more ridiculous turns, speeding up, trying to lose Jamie, and it makes Jamie angry, competitive nature kicking in. He can outrun Tyler any day of the week, and there is no reason whatsoever for him to be avoiding Jamie this outrageously.

It comes to a head in someone's backyard, Tyler tripping over a hose and going sprawling. Jamie stops to help him up, and when Tyler stands he smacks Jamie in the chest.

“Why are you following me?” he asks, still managing to yell even though he's out of breath.

“Because I want to talk? You haven't responded to any of my texts,” Jamie says.

“Maybe because I don't want to talk to you! I can't see you anymore,” Tyler replies.

Jamie feels his jaw clench, stung. It hurts worse than he expected. He doesn't know what he thought Tyler would say. Obviously he didn't want to see Jamie anymore, if he wouldn't even answer a text.

Jamie makes himself nod, to make it clear that he heard, that he wouldn't bother Tyler anymore, and he turns to go.

Christ, what was he thinking? He's an idiot. Tyler knew exactly what he was doing the whole time, and Jamie got caught up in it. Got taken for a whorl, sucked up in something that wasn't what he thought it was. He should have realized it wasn't serious to Tyler. Of course it wasn't.

“Jamie, wait,” Tyler calls after him, catching Jamie's wrist in his hand.

Jamie instantly feels his fist unclench, Tyler's fingers slipping down between his, linking them together.

“It's not because I don't want to,” Tyler explains. “It was made very clear to me that you have... you have much more important things to focus on, and you didn't even want to tutor me to begin with! It's... I don't want to distract you.”

“Are you seeing someone else?” Jamie questions, the words feeling thick and bad-tasting in his mouth with how little he wants to ask, but needing to know anyway.

Tyler's brow furrows in confusion as he looks up at Jamie. “No?”

“Another tutor?”

Tyler's face goes red as he looks down. “No,” he says with feeling. “I've been trying to do the stuff you taught me. I mean, it's not really working, but I am trying.”

A rush of warmth spreads through Jamie, fond beyond all reason as he pulls Tyler closer to him, despite his better judgment. Tyler curls his hand into the sweaty collar of Jamie's shirt, holding onto it as they kiss.

“Maybe we should start over,” Jamie suggest, barely breaking away from Tyler's mouth long enough to get the words out.

Tyler makes a sound close to a whimper and leans in to kiss him again. Jamie lets it stretch out longer than he means to before pushing Tyler away.

“I mean it. Let's start over. Go on a date with me. Forget the tutoring thing ever happened and just... just go out with me.”

Tyler nods, eyes still closed as he searches for Jamie's mouth, finds it, and kisses him like he's been missing it for weeks. Like Jamie has.

But he can't. He's being serious here. He finds the resolve to push Tyler away from him one last time, breaking their hold on each other fully. Jamie unsticks his shirt from his sweaty chest and laughs at Tyler's glare and the way his hair is sticking up in uneven bunches.

“Does this mean I have to deal with you pretending not to want me again?” Tyler asks.

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “I definitely don't put out on the first date.”

“We'll just fucking see about that,” Tyler mutters, following as Jamie turns to start the jog home.


End file.
